Ghost of a White Rose
by Anake14
Summary: Francis is lost in the country of Albion and finds himself caught by the sight of a young man who could only be described as beautiful. Love blooms, but their future simply won't last, because the old guard of the White Rose is bound to fall. FrUK, a little FrancexJeanne


A/N: Ugh...writer's block...I am going to have other chapters out for my other stories soon...I just don't know when because I for some reason cannot get my mind to focus on them. That and I don't like my college classes and have been delaying those assignments as well. One of my friends is a FrUK fan…so this is kind of for her and I thought the two songs Ghost of a Rose by Blackmore's Knight and White Rose by Heather Dale really fit the bill so I based this story off of those two songs.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Ghost of a Rose, or White Rose nor do I gain any profit by writing this story.

Ghost of a White Rose

_The valley green, so serene,_

_In the meadow by the stream _

_So blue_

_A maiden fair in despair_

_Once had met her true love there_

Francis scowled as he made his way through the rain of the country Albion. Gaul was better by far, the food was not bland and it didn't rain half as much as it did on this blasted island. He walked for what seemed like hours but it seemed top him all he had accomplished was walking in circles. Francis sighed as he looked around himself for some sort of marker that would let him know where he was. Finding none he was about to sit down on the ground and bemoan his fate, but he heard a faint giggle, somewhat childish in nature as he walked through the trees to his left and found himself at the beginnings of a valley with a river flowing not too far off.

It was there he caught sight of someone a little younger than himself. The person was obviously male, but he was handsome and Francis found himself taken by the person's unearthly beauty. His hair was the color of flaxen wheat, but the eyes where the colors of gemstones, the brightest and darkest of forest leaves, reminders of spring grass. Francis wondered if he would be allowed to paint such beauty before him, but he took notice of something he had not before, the other's eyes were saddened, despairing, and he could not help but feel his heart clench in response.

As he walked towards the figure the snap of a branch beneath his footfall alerted the other to his presence and he whirled around furiously, "Who goes?"

Francis held up his arms in surrender. "My name is Francis, I am but a traveler in these parts and have lost my way."

Arthur eyed him skeptically. "You sound it, but how am I to know this is no trickery on your behalf?"

"Trickery? Of what sort would I be to tempt you who tempts me?" Francis inquired, honest confusion lacing his voice.

"I see," Arthur said. "So long as you are not here at my brothers' behest, you may remain. I am called Arthur."

They talked for what seemed like many hours until the sun was lowering in the horizon and Arthur huffed his disappointment. "It seems you have stayed long past the hour of which you were due back."

"So it would seem," mused Francis.

"In which case, since I am at fault for detaining you, please accept my humblest apologies and remain in the comforts of my home until the morrow," Arthur continued.

Francis was caught by surprise. He had not thought the beauty before him of the ilk to ask such a question nor offer, but he accepted nonetheless. In their journey to Arthur's home he found it odd that Arthur would stop and often speak to air as if there were someone there, but he decided he was weary and it was merely a trick of his mind.

The next morning Arthur was nowhere to be found, but there was a note and a white rose near it that held a confession of love he had not thought to expect from the strange man he had met only the day before, though there was no denying he too felt the connection.

_And she told him, she would say,_

_Promise me, when you see_

_A White Rose you'll think of me_

_I love you so, never let go_

_I will be…your ghost of a rose._

Francis did not know what to expect of Arthur, the enigmatic man would meet with him every so often and disappear as he had come; there was no trace or indication that the man would remain. One night he could not help but question Arthur. "Arthur, why is it you never remain?"

Arthur blushed a bit but pushed his embarrassment aside. "I cannot."

"Why? Are we not lovers?" asked Francis, a bit hurt by the man's reluctance to answer.

"I love you," Arthur responded.

"Then why?"

Arthur swallowed, he didn't want to say. He didn't want to lose Francis, but he also knew that their love would not last, not as he wished it. "Come meet me tomorrow where we first met."

_Castles, greed, and mysteries_

_She would lay amongst the leaves of amber_

_Her spirit wild, heart of a child_

_Yet gentle still and quiet and mild_

Francis did as Arthur had requested and returned to the place where they had first met the next day. Arthur lay amongst the leaves as time finally began to turn from summer to fall. "I cannot remain Francis, because I must be here. This is my place, my home, everything I live for; though I love you I cannot remain with you. Promise you'll remember me?"

"Why? Arthur, I don't understand…"

"Sit and listen to my song, please?" Arthur pleaded, but Francis was never any good at denying Arthur a request anyway. So Francis sat and he stilled as the melody echoed through the woods and on the wind itself.

"I'll tell you a tale of when time had no meaning

When legend and history walked hand in hand

When the swords of the mighty had bested the dragon

But the elven still walked in the land

White Rose, Queen of the summer

White Rose, Queen of the fall

White Rose, the new guard will follow

White Rose, the old guard will fall

The sun and the moon were fixed in the heavens

The whole world grew weary as the summer stood still

The queen of great courage and the heart of a dragon

Set her throne above the elf hill

White Rose, Queen of the summer

White Rose, Queen of the fall

White Rose, the new guard will follow

White Rose, the old guard will fall

The queen on her throne called the elven before her

And said look around you time should march on

I ask you to bow and make history the victor

The day of the legends is gone

White Rose, Queen of the summer

White Rose, Queen of the fall

White Rose, the new guard will follow

White Rose, the old guard will fall

The people approached her to offer their blessings

And each brought red roses to lay at her feet

While the elven came forward to lay their last flowers

White as the summer's day heat

White Rose, Queen of the summer

White Rose, Queen of the fall

White Rose, the new guard will follow

White Rose, the old guard will fall

Cycles of time leave the world in their circles

And the flower white queen is among us again

While the elves have their place in the verses of legend

But not in the history of man

White Rose, Queen of the summer

White Rose, Queen of the fall

White Rose, the new guard will follow

White Rose, the old guard will fall."

"Arthur…what does it mean, tell me you are not leaving," Francis begged.

"I've no choice Francis. Everyone has a time, mine may have been short but I do not regret it, this, us," Arthur gestured. "I was already fading, but my love for you prolonged me. Promise me when summer wanes and the fall leaves, that you will remember me in the white roses of our love. As the old fades and the new follows, I beg of thee not to forget the love shared between us, "Arthur said. He had accepted his fate long, long ago, he knew his time would come, but he had never thought to fall in love and perhaps that was his own mistake, yet he could not regret falling for the charismatic man who had loved him in a way that no one ever had before, the man who had truly shown him the values of life.

Francis could not deny Arthur that, even as he slowly watched his love fade away. In the echoes of a summer meant to return another, but he knew that the following summer it would not be his love.

_He loved her, when she would say_

_Promise me when you see_

_A white rose you'll think of me._

_I love you so, never let go_

_I will be, your ghost of a rose…_

It took time, but Francis knew Arthur wished for him to remember their love, not be bound to it and held forever in the past longing for a memory. Slowly but surely he healed, always returning to the first place he had found love. On a summer day five years after he met Arthur, he met a woman there in the same spot, her name was Jeanne, but he forever saw the glimpse of his old love who still held part of his heart in the white roses.

_And ever more he thought he saw,_

_A glimpse of her upon the morals forever_

_He'd hear her say_

_Promise me, when you see_

_A white rose you'll think of me_

_I love you so, never let go,_

_I will be…your ghost of a rose._

A/N: Mwahahahahaha! I get the last laugh Mein Fruend, for I never said it would end FrUK! I decided I couldn't leave France lonely and gave him Jeanne who is meant to be the new Rose Queen! Uhm…to be honest this isn't my best work, but please review and let me know what you thought?


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